Some neighbors of ours here in Seattle are planning a move south, to Los Angeles. Pessimism is not my style...

August 22nd, 2013, 12pm

It was 24.4°C with broken clouds. The breeze was light.

However, I have very few positive experiences after living in LA for a short time. The city I suppose is exhausting like any big city can be. The traffic is tiresome, the streets are dirty, the rent is high, and the quality of life for those below the median income is less than desirable. I personally wouldn’t recommend it to anyone, but here she was on our doorstep seeking advice, and unknowingly support. Support I just cannot give. I wished her the best and I gave her a brief outline of what I suggest she would be smart to be cautious of, but I don’t think a move to LA will be anything but another life lesson for her as it was for myself. It was a beautifully tragic experience for me, I found myself broke and in love. Paying over 1,000.00 rent for an apartment with no restroom and only enough space to fit our queen size mattress. The lack of space required a routine and organization in order to preserve our sanity and relationship. On more than one occasion I had been ripped off, be it thieves on the street pick pocketing me for a pair of glasses, or stripping my bike piece by piece, and even right down to our infamous “Slumlord” of a landlord who had no concern for the countless drug seeking strangers that paced our hallways into the morning. The standard mentality is “Dog eat dog,” and don’t let the hippy types fool you, the days of the 60’s counter culture are lost and whats left of them are addicts parading around promoting love and peace just waiting to take advantage of you just like the streets took advantage of them. I could see the ocean from the window of our apartment though, we called it the cupboard. From our cupboard we would look out at the water as if our future lie some where on the other side of it. At sunset people would congregate at the shore and stare off into the horizon silently with hope and bit of despair in their eyes. Los Angeles was temporary, and I learned a lot about myself and my partner. It was notes like this one in the photo that helped us through our worst days. We made it out of that city with cracks in its pavement so large just waiting to swallow you up. Now I feel like I could handle anything Seattle has to throw my way, and I know I can count on my lover for support through it as well. I hope if my neighbor does end up moving to LA that she finds a greater appreciation for her home in Seattle, and her time spent there isn’t a waste. A friend once joked “Los Angeles is a place where dreams go to die,” I believe this can be true, but for me it was simply a chapter in my life. The struggle inspired me to pick up and move on, if anything at all at least I can say “I did it.”


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Krista Cary

I am small and pleasant most days. My social interactions become more digital than physical with age. I prefer the company of plants and animals to large groups of people. I've been wandering around the states for about 3 years now, but I think Seattle feels like home at this point.

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